by Susan Campos

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"Mothertheless" is a conceptual music project of sound poetry:
Cover: "Superman al final de la escapada" (Christopher Reeve/Jean Seberg, 2012) by Pablo Gallo:


released April 16, 2012

Susan Campos composer, poetry of Sylvia Plath, Elise Plain, and Juan Andrés García Román.




Susan Campos Fonseca Costa Rica

"No soy más que el eco de una canción/No soy eterna/No busco más que el eco de una canción" - Forugh Farrojzad

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Track Name: "Snow White"
"Every night she comes,
to take me out to dreamland…

Dear little you, I`m so sorrowful sorry,
Y cuando los pájaros veían a Snow White, decían lindascosaslindascosas.
Snow White, Snow White, the little men have come to say littleiloveyou.”

A Fragment poem by Juan Andrés García Román to "La Adoración", pp. 9-11.
Track Name: "morir de belleza"
"Informers inform, burglars burgle, murderers murder, lovers love." - Jean-Luc Godard.
Title from a fragment poem to Juan Andrés García Román: "Lo que quiero es morir de belleza" to "La Adoración", pp.17-19.
Track Name: "Quitanieves"
“extingámonos en el esplendor”
“Lo que quiero es morir de belleza.”
“quieto sobre ninguna rama,
ingrávido, infeliz,
como un hombre que escribe escribe escribe”

Fragments of poetry by Juan Andrés García Román to "La Adoración", pp. 17-19, 119, 121.
Track Name: "She knows"
to Gordana Kuić and the memory of Sephardi women

"> > I have developed love
> > While standing behind the black curtains
> > She knows so many things.
> >
> > She has just the perfect age
> > And right darkness
> > There was a starless night
> > In her wore down pocket.
> > And her house is somewhere
> > You could not say.
> > I have developed love
> > While standing behind the black curtains
> >
> > A love of precious things
> > Only Gordana can show me.
> >
> > In movement
> > She whispered something
> >
> > I will close the door behind her
> > And the night will tell me longlocks
> > So so quiet.
> >
> > She knows so many secrets"

An unpublished poem by Elise Plain (New York, december 16, 2008).
Track Name: "Tale"
"[…] can our dreams
ever blur the intransigent lines which draw.
The shape that shuts us in?"

A Fragment of "Tale of a tub" by Sylvia Plath.